<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>pushing buttons, ripping shirts by bee_bro</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23389222">pushing buttons, ripping shirts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bee_bro/pseuds/bee_bro'>bee_bro</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Beholding, Bickering, Body-hopping, Bottom Elias Bouchard, Canon Compliant, Crack Treated Seriously, Established Relationship, Eye Contact, Eye Gouging, Feelings, Horny About Wide Shoulders On Main, Humor, LonelyEyes, M/M, Office Sex, Peter Big, Peter Lukas is a Bastard, Porn With Plot, Pre-Season/Series 01, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, Younger Elias Bouchard, abusing the powers of, and its KINKY, and that relationship is BASTARD, and the equally mortifying ordeal of being SEEN, but i alter the timeline a bit for convinience, but the entire fic is just them two so they just annoy each other, elias bouchard is a Bastard, elias has multiple hypothetical eyes, except HORNY, it somehow ends Soft, jonahs rather methodic, non violent though, set RIGHT after Jonah yeets his way into Elias Twink Bouchard, so theres the obligatory, they come this close to admitting, to figure out why ur bf knows the word 'gucci'</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:41:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,188</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23389222</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bee_bro/pseuds/bee_bro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonah prefers to play it safe and have at least one person know when he's planning to body-hop. Going from James Wright to Elias Bouchard, he enlists Peter. Who very tactfully shows up three days late.</p><p>He'd be mad, except going from a creaky jointed old man to the young, spry body of a twenty-year-old leaves Jonah with whiplash and a profound hunger for Peter 'Bastard' Lukas. Neither is willing to make it easy but god do both want it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Peter Lukas/Jonah Magnus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>302</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>pushing buttons, ripping shirts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i dont know how this goes from eye gouging to 4k of horny on main but I guess that's just the magnus archives for you</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jonah obstinately believed himself to be very independent. He'd raised a functional institute from the ground up, figured out how to de-eye people including himself, survived Gertrude’s severe scrutiny (so far), beat death for the Eye's sake! Jonah also obstinately ignored the fact he'd been leaching off the Lukas' bank account for decades and had bullied a very confused serial killer into tips on using a sharpened spoon to carefully remove eyes without detriment to the eyelids.</p><p>So while he'd always been insistent on autonomy when it came to his admittedly rare body-hopping, it didn't hurt to be checked-in on right after. To make sure he'd gotten out of the Panopticon’s hallways in a new body. Once, he'd misjudged the rather reduced muscle-mass of a new host as well as an affinity to low hemoglobin, and barely dragged himself out, blinking through old blood. Since then, he'd made sure to alert... someone if he was planning to transfer hosts again. As backup.</p><p>Jonah lay Elias' semi-conscious bag-of-bricks heavy body onto the table and loosely tied him down against any preliminary lash out. Administered Droperidol and waited for it to set in, periodically poking Elias' thigh with his scalpel to test for reactions.  They came in vacant shivers and attempts to avert the sharp edges until finally subsiding into rare muscle twitches.</p><p>He'd had to strike a careful balance in the use of sedative, as to both ensure cooperation but also avoid getting hit with the same drug when settling into the new host’s cardiovascular system. Tedious. One of the few reasons he didn’t do this more often and waited to grow relatively old before bothering.</p><p>Once content with the sedative effects, he administered the eye speculums and watched the pathetic loll of a partially lucid gaze. </p><p>Jonah methodically lifted each eye out of its cavity and severed the optic nerves, laying the mushy white spheres aside. Quite similar to his own in color – crucial - albeit bloodshot. Then he sat down near the cot, feeling the complaints of James Wright's aged body, and undid the binds from earlier, seeing as no more resistance was to be ever had. Elias' quiet sluggish sobs shivered across the Panopticon’s still, ancient air.</p><p>Now came Jonah's eyes. He moved the first rather easily, feeling the unnerving process of plucking it out from the eyelids, and then setting it into Elias' head. Pressed cotton into his newly empty socket and waited for the nerves to knit themselves, tethering Jonah’s mind to Elias’ body. The sensation always caught him just a tiny bit off guard, feeling his consciousness begin to stretch, pulled to the new host with only one eye.</p><p>Jonah's vision split, murky from blood on Elias' end but coherent enough for Jonah to maneuver Elias' new hands to reach up to James Wright's face - one he'd grown so used to seeing in the mirror. He struggled with Elias' still blotchy coordination and finally removed his second eye from Wright, carefully placing it into the waiting socket and hearing rather than seeing Wright crash to the floor.</p><p>Jonah lay back down, feeling Elias eb away, bleed out in lieu of a new, much stronger and substantial consciousness setting in. He stayed there for a long time, eyes closed and familiarizing with a new body and the ghost remnants of pain. The jump from a dying man's form to this one was startling, exhilarating. It was refreshing to get up off the cot without the creak of joints and to boot, after a significantly shorter time of recovery. Onwards, then.</p><p>Jonah disposed of Wright's body after killing it - whatever <em>it</em> was without him to pilot - and cleaned his face up in the mirror. Everything unfamiliar but the age-old eyes, always his own. His heartbeat thrummed, limbs felt strong and agile, blood still a bit buzzed from the drugs and residual adrenalin. Jonah began his trek out of the tunnels, mildly disgruntled at the significant drop of height between Wright and Bouchard. But in face of his freer gate and sharper sense, it was… an agreeable price, at any rate.</p><p>It'd be a rebuilding process from here on.</p><p>Peter showed up a tactful three days late, making his way past Jonah's secretary somehow, yet unsurprisingly so, without comment from either. He dropped the temperature in the room significantly like some bothersome apparition, equally as pale.</p><p>"Oh, I see it went well-" He eyed Elias up and down, "Unless that's not you in there, Jonah."</p><p>Jonah leaned back in his chair, still reveling in the lack of persistent back pain, "And if it wasn't, you'd have a lot of explaining to do to poor Elias here."</p><p>"Elias, then," Peter shucked his heavy black coat off and tossed it over the back of a chair, "I dread having to remember that," he sighed out mist, making Jonah roll his eyes, "Elias the what?"</p><p>"Bouchard."</p><p>Peter sat down, grinning but looking at the ceiling, "Fancy, very good shopping from your part. I sympathize, I'd recently acquired a new installment for the Tundra-"</p><p>"You're days late." Jonah cut him off in self-preservation against the threat of a long information-spam about interior design for oceanic vessels.</p><p>The interruption didn't dampen Peter's mood, "My bad for missing the big day," he didn't mean it at all, "I figured you'd deal." Petty.</p><p>"I sure would. Yet in a worse scenario, if I'd been forced to cut the back of Elias' knees for whatever reason before transferring into him... I'd prefer being picked up instead of having to drag myself out of the tunnels." Jonah did a passable job of saying the latter part with the same air of snobbish dignity. Peter still wasn't meeting eyes - rather common of him yet annoying nonetheless - and Jonah studied the relaxed slope of his wide shoulders as they shook with inaudible laughter.</p><p>"Oh, sure," Peter's eyes crinkled as he relished in the concept of such treacherous and prolonged isolation, crow's feet from days of squinting at the open sea sun evident in their deep-carved lines. "You look healthy, I bet it wouldn't have been half the trouble of me finding you in the tunnels the day of and helping you sponge blood off the floors. How's it feel being barely out of the womb again?"</p><p>Jonah sighed, "He was twenty five. But yes, I admit it's a very pleasing step-up from... Wright."</p><p>At this Peter choked out a short laugh, once more soundless, "More of a step-down, you're drowning behind that desk."</p><p>"Elias- I mean,<em> I</em>, am not that short. This is an average height for his age, and I'm sure he'll- <em>I</em> will be growing."</p><p>"That's what short people say. Stand up, why don't you?" Peter motioned at him, hands heavy and lazy. Good humor did that to him. Jonah did not want to oblige.</p><p>He covetously stood up, spreading his hands and refusing to sigh, feeling Peter's gaze drag through him without much care. It made him antsy.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"I'm looking for a word but I really do not think I know it, can you find out?"</p><p>Jonah habitually opened his many non-dimensional eyes, snapping them back shut almost immediately - yet not fast enough to miss the word <em>'twink'</em> floating around the Great Known of Beholding. It must've reflected on his face because Peter went into another fit of wheezing.</p><p>"Yeah, whatever it is, you're that."</p><p>Jonah crossed from behind his desk to stand at Peter's chair, pointing at him with cold vehemence, "This body is average height, not much better than your own stuck-up arse, and also much stronger than my last, so watch it."</p><p>Peter watched him calmly, eyes lidded but eyebrows raised, making Jonah inadvertently jittery. Then he stood up, putting himself far closer to Jonah than Jonah'd intended to approach.</p><p>Peter'd been taller than Wright, yet not by too much. Enough to sometimes come up behind Jonah and rest his chin on Jonah's shoulder before being swatted away on most occasions. However, with the loss of… a substantial few centimeters of height between Wright and Bouchard, Jonah found himself practically chest level with Peter, coming up to his shoulders at best.</p><p>Peter, the bastard, for once had shut up. It did wonders to nail his point home - a horrible veracity. Jonah felt the burn of a lost battle crawl onto his face, lost for an immediate retort, and in-fucking-stead very <em>found</em> in a long-forgotten vertigo. Damn the infinitely reliable memory that was granted with patronage to the Eye- flashbacks of Peter's hands on him flickered through his recollection at whiplash speed. Peter radiated an enticing kind of cold.</p><p>"Between paying taxes and the perils of the human condition, we really all are unfortunate. But you, <em>Elias</em>," Peter basically purred, "are the most inconvenienced of all," Peter pressed one of his hands to Jonah's side, chilling, "having to age at human rates, huh."</p><p>Jonah, by principle, wanted to tell him off, but by a more physical habit, found himself leaning into the touch. Another hand found its way to his other hip, large and grounding. Jonah’s lack of immediate fight must have been exactly what Peter was looking for. He’d been slowly leaning down into Jonah’s space, alluringly familiar.</p><p>Peter then patted his sides and retracted all touch, stepping away and shrugging with a car salesman's grin he'd learned from Wright's face, "Always wondered how much you used to chase me off due to genuine dislike or if it was… rather a fear of me blowing your back out so hard you'd experience the worse sides of joint deterioration."</p><p>Jonah lamented the space put between them, the opportunity to backhand Peter completely lost.</p><p>"Who bloody taught you those words-" Jonah then threw a stapler at him, "You-" the stapler smacked a shelf instead of Peter's beaming face and very unfortunately knocked over three books with the force of the throw. "You are decidedly the most appalling, dreadful man I know!"</p><p>Elias' secretary peeked into the room, "Mr. Bouchard? Is everything alright?" She glanced at the displaced books and at the rest of the room, "Who were you talking to?"</p><p>Jonah didn't flinch, "On the phone. Everything's alright, thank you for the concern. And um, please don't allow any visitors until I personally confirm the contrary.</p><p>She nodded, easily reassured, and disappeared.</p><p>Peter faded into real life, looking at the stapler with mourn.</p><p>"No visitors, huh?"</p><p>"I don't want to look like a fool talking to empty air, Peter."</p><p>"That empty air is actually your trusted and beloved associate, Mr. Bouchard." Peter cackled like sand against metal, "Anywho. Seeing you're very well and very healthy, I think my duty here is done."</p><p>"You didn't do anything." Jonah tracked the shrug of Peter's shoulders with rekindled hunger.</p><p>"Damn well above my paygrade already," Peter picked up his coat and began slipping it on, "I have a ship to return to, I'd rather it not be discovered and inquired about legal papers." He'd gotten his arms halfway down the sleeves when Peter Lukas made the worst and yet best mistake of meeting eyes with Jonah, who'd been digging his nails into his palms and biting his lip to remain in place.</p><p>Meeting Peter's rare icy-pale gaze was like an arctic ignition to whatever fuse Jonah's been trying to hide from his new body's insistent desire to ravish Peter.</p><p>He crossed the room swiftly and the residual, well-established dynamic between them urged Peter to back away. Even with his current physicality, Jonah'd always been the authority and it showed as Peter knocked against the wall right by the closed door, coat half-on and half-off and eyes back to dodging confrontation.</p><p>Jonah slammed his palms flat on either side of Peter. Wright had been tall but Elias was strong.</p><p>"You lonely bastard, think you can leave and then wallow in self-pity about how fucking sorry you are?" Jonah leaned into him roughly, eyes unyieldingly seeking out Peter's, "Think I'm not onto you? I might look fresh out of college but don't forget that seven generations ago I was giving another Lonely patron like you bloody marital advice. You Lukases have always been insufferable brats with your entitled emotions."</p><p>Peter tilted his head back to further avoid eye contact, very unfortunately exposing his neck. Jonah yanked him lower and simultaneously leaned up on his tiptoes to latch onto Peter's collarbone and then neck, mouthing and biting. His job was promptly made easier as Peter's knees went a little less rigid and he slid down the wall, already huffing labored breaths.</p><p>Jonah detached himself, beginning to extract Peter out of his coat, "Touch starved, aren't you? What'd you call it, the <em>human condition</em>? What tragedy that you're contaminated too." He threw the coat aside and began shoving his hands under Peter's heavy, rough sweater, "Bet that feeds your god aplenty, standing on that deck and wondering when'll be the next time you feel my hands all over your back, missing my touch, missing my mouth," Jonah pawed all over Peter's chest and sides, lightly dragging his nails and feeling the other’s breaths hitch.</p><p>"Trust me," Peter sucked air in through his teeth, having a tough time pushing syllables out, "Your mouth is something nobody will ever miss. Even now, you're still talking." Peter's hands were slowly and lightly tugging Jonah's button-up out from where it was neatly tucked in, as if waiting to be batted away.</p><p>"Rich coming from you, I still regret chatting you up and breaking that dam of verbal battery." Jonah detached his hands from Peter's chest momentarily to begin shoving the sweater out of the way with dangerous ferocity.</p><p>"It's a rare talent, very compelling-" Peter shucked it off, then the undershirt, throwing both, relishing in the sound of it knocking some stationary over on Jonah's desk, "hah- Compelling, get it?" He breathed cold air onto Jonah's skin in choppy gasps, hands finally uprooting Jonah's shirt and using it's bottom rim to pull Jonah closer.</p><p>"I'm glad my ministrations are enough to render your bad jokes worse."</p><p>"You're the one that has to listen to them," Peter was definitely gearing up to say something else, probably not any more endearing than an insult, so Jonah bit a nipple. The soft <em>'fucker'</em> it elicited was leagues better.</p><p>Peter was strong in an effortless way, left with a broad chest and shoulders from relentless work rather than pointed exercise, hair on his chest as white as on his head and wretchedly familiar. Jonah has spent not one night sleeping against the deep rise and fall of Peter's ribcage. Now he bit and sucked, working his way back up to Peter's vague collarbone and then neck. Peter'd been on-and-off palming around Jonah's torso, without fail coming back to clutch at Jonah's shirt without being at all useful. Terrible.</p><p>Jonah practically pulled himself up along Peter's body to lick up to his chin and then puff into his ear before biting it, "You're so exhaustively unhelpful. My shirt, dear."</p><p>Peter actually moaned at this, low and unexpected from his usually lock-jaw silence, it sent a very urgent wave through Jonah's blood. He began a series of open-mouthed kisses as Peter did his best to sound relentlessly cocky even in such dire times, "How fast you want it off?"</p><p>"Now."</p><p>Peter only hummed and Jonah had a split-second of doubt about the nature of such specifics in the face of rather obvious desire. Then Peter went and fucking ripped Jonah's shirt open. It was a clean and swift ministration, sending black buttons bulleting away. Jonah felt the flex of muscles under his palms and had to beat the undoubtedly appealing side of that down to make space for anger about the shirt. "Great going, you wicked oaf."</p><p>Peter evened his breath marginally, dipping two fingers past Jonah's pants, not going far at all, "You love it."</p><p>"I don't think I do."</p><p>"Okay, all the more incentive to do this then," and Peter slid his hands down to Jonah's ass, but instead of doing something agreeable, he hefted Jonah up with relative ease and quickly spun them around, slamming Jonah up against the wall in a way that would've hurt in Wright's body.</p><p>Jonah locked his legs around Peter's middle in fast self-preservation and dug his fingers into Peter's back, eyes going wild and an objection ready on his lips. Except having let up on Peter's neck seemed to give Peter time to replenish his oxygen supplies which sent him right back into being horrible to work with.</p><p>He descended on Jonah's chest and shoulder with the rugburn of white stubble and the classic sting of teeth, hands kneading at Jonah's ass where he continued pinning him against the wall. Jonah had resentfully missed it, missed Peter and his lack of buffers. With a smattering of passing human lovers, it was hard to explain 'yes I will literally heal immediately' to some. Peter drew blood with a bite and pulled back:</p><p>"Belt."</p><p>Jonah threw his head back, skull clacking against the wall, whining out a low moan, "What is this? Scared that if I get back to taking you apart you won't be able to come back together?"</p><p>"Sure, whatever. Belt." Peter punctuated it by pressing Jonah into the wall harder and grinding up into him, both moaning, one a stuttering growl and the other a startled groan.</p><p>Jonah's hands flitted down to his belt, undoing it quickly and unzipping his pants with half-formed fear of Peter breaking this too. For his part, Peter continued to grind against Jonah, huffing against his shoulder, sending shivers down Jonah's spine.</p><p>The moment the belt was gone, Peter grumbled a <em>'hold on'</em> and abated his support of Jonah's weight. Instead choosing to hook thumbs into Jonah's waistband and unsuccessfully drag it down as Jonah's legs remained tightly wrapped around Peter.</p><p>"Don't damage them, they're designer."</p><p>"Gucci?" Peter laughed against Jonah's neck, one hand now massaging at Jonah's naked ass.</p><p>Jonah gasped out, "Who do you take me for?" before beginning to detach from Peter with great reluctance, swinging one leg to the side, "Hold me."</p><p>Peter caught him bridal carry and Jonah was able to very efficiently kick off his shoes and pants. "Anything you say, ever." He began carrying Jonah to the desk.</p><p>"Oh no no no, there are papers on that which I will not enjoy - <em>fuck</em>" Peter had run a rough palm over his dick so unceremoningly Jonah barely held onto the second half of that sentence, "I will not enjoy explaining the stains on, about, yeah."</p><p>Peter looked riled, staring at Jonah with carnivorous intent, eyes still aversive but now wide and very present. Jonah pointed at the futon with a nod of his head. Peter crossed the room quickly and threw Jonah onto it with surprisingly little fuss. Jonah righted himself, looking up at Peter who was, very unfortunately, still wearing pants.</p><p>"You'd look at me like that, sometimes, from the last face of yours." Peter began undoing his own belt. "All hungry. Can't blame young hormones only for that." He stepped out of his pants and didn't pause in approaching the couch, "Undressing me with your eyes-" he bent down, mouthing against Jonah's ear, "Sorry, your <em>Eyes</em>."</p><p>Jonah shivered, "Can we get on with it? Got anything else to say?"</p><p>"Never ask me that and then tell me to shut up, you're a walking contradiction. A sexy one sure but," Peter swallowed the rest of his statement as Jonah reached down to wrap dainty palms around his dick. He planted his nose into Jonah's neck, humming low and heavy.</p><p>"Who have you been talking to, Peter?" Jonah slowly stroked Peter's erection, "First Gucci, now 'sexy', it wasn't too long ago you-" Jonah gulped back a moan as Peter's mildly shaking hands slip up his legs from the knee to his stomach and then back to his dick, "you were using words from the lexicon of a boring professor."</p><p>Peter scoffed but it came out breathless, like the rest of his sentence as Jonah jerked him off, "Between the two of us, I think the bespectacled one has no right laughing. You might look like a pub whore now but I know you'll be looking all uptight and Lecter-y in a few months."</p><p>"How impolite," Jonah twisted his wrist and Peter let out a drawn out rumble into Jonah's chest. "Tell Me."</p><p>Peter let out a dangerous, hoarse growl, tensing above Jonah, "Don't Compel me," he abruptly hoisted Jonah up and moved him sideways to lie on the futon, climbing on top and pinning him down both with his large hands and a piercing, sharp gaze, looking a bit to the side of Jonah's own eyes. "You know I hate that."</p><p>"I do know." Jonah grit out, grappling at Peter's back and sides to pull him closer, grinding up against him, now both naked and moaning into the space between them, Peter's preternatural temperature a welcome insulation. "Fine, fine. Lube’s where it always is."</p><p>Peter pealed himself off of Jonah with great self-restraint and went to dig it out of Jonah's desk. As he picked through the drawer, Peter got, out of the blue, hit with a severe and crippling sensation of being watched. He whipped around to see Jonah lying on the futon with his eyes closed, red, sweaty, and disheveled to no ends. However, Jonah's mental prodding very much did not relent. Peter approached him and landed a wet, weighty kiss right above Jonah's brow where a third eye could rest, "If you are going to close your eyes, close all of them. First Compelling, then prodding.”</p><p>Jonah sputtered, wiping saliva off his forehead, "That is disgusting, I cannot believe you go around disrespecting my god like this."</p><p>"Every time you so much as look at me you're disrespecting my god too so I think we're even." Peter slid back onto Jonah, the futon... considerably and pointedly larger than necessary for purely professional use. "Curiosity killed the cat, but I'm sure you're aware that," Peter got a hold of Jonah's dick again, beginning to work him slowly, "an especially delicious-" at this he licked a strip up Jonah's chest, "-aspect of feeling Lonely is from within a crowd. I hang around places unseen, just outside of conversations." Peter slicked his fingers, beginning to circle Jonah's rim. "I listen."</p><p>Jonah whined deep in his ribcage, the sound barely making it out of his throat, writhing and carving scratch marks down Peter's back.</p><p>Peter pushed one finger inside, "I learn. Pick some things up, sometimes unintentionally." Jonah let out a pointed humming against Peter's neck, pushing down on the finger and pointedly relaxing, asking for more. Peter obliged, adding a finger, not yet scissoring, "You like that?"</p><p>Jonah hummed without much meaning.</p><p>"'M not talking about this-" Peter curved his fingers, pulling a throaty yelp from Jonah, "I mean the Learning," he said the word with substantial meaning and right against the bobbing column of Jonah's neck, "Gaining knowledge... Our entities are close, been working together, mm," he added a third finger, Jonah now consistently providing a stream of soft whining. "You feel good knowing I'm drinking up that knowledge of the crowds? Feel better than trying to pull information from me like teeth?" Peter spread his fingers and Jonah moaned, long and drawn out, eyes squeezed shut.</p><p>Yet Jonah managed a cackle through all this, "Not really but it's close."</p><p>Peter rewarded him for his efforts by removing his fingers completely. "Well, every time you wander those hallways <em>alone</em>, trust me I'm having a grand time."</p><p>Jonah panted, cracking his eyes open and squinting at Peter, hanging on top of him, one bastard in a long line of Lukas men who'd all aged far too well for their good.</p><p>Peter retrieved more lube, then paused, blinking down somewhere at Jonah's throat, "You know if this body has any diseases I should be worried about? As a patron with no body-recycling tendencies?"</p><p>"Peter," Jonah pulled at Peter's hair without real direction, "We've been swapping spit since you came into this office. You licked at my blood."</p><p>Peter grinned lazily, pushed at Jonah's opening with his thumb just to mess with him, "Hey, no mouth-to-mouth has been exchanged yet..."</p><p>The ending of his sentence was engulfed by Jonah leaning up to hungrily lick into Peter's mouth, more smug than genuine up until Peter lined himself up and pushed in without breaking the kiss.</p><p>Jonah moaned at the back of his throat, eyebrows scrunching up and heels digging into Peter's back, losing some of the kiss's original showiness to a more deliberate sincerity, one he hadn't fallen into since him and Peter had first gotten their hands on each other, before the mutual complicated, codependent hatred had set in.</p><p>Peter fucked him slowly at first, driving the futon to sway minisculey with each thrust and startling a hitch in Jonah's humming trail of whines vibrating right into their locked lips. Jonah's hands had wound up locked around Peter's neck, digging into his scalp, feeling the coarse pearly white strands. Feeling Peter's large hands all over him, scraping lightly down his stomach or coming up to play with a nipple- a favor Jonah returns as he grinds back down onto Peter, clenching around him and licking into his mouth.</p><p>He’d missed the buzz in the air, the buzz in his blood, Jonah’d been busy preparing James Wright’s retirement and Elias Bouchard’s… promotion. Hadn’t spared time to find himself wandering back into such familiar embrace. Jonah finally detangled a hand and brought it down to run across Peter's chest, scratching in turn, catching on a nipple and bite mark left earlier. Peter picked up pace, driving into Jonah with casual force, kiss turning sloppy as he derailed to the side to instead mouth at Jonah's chin, beginning to pant.</p><p>The futon was wracking up a steady pattern of creaks. Peter huffed, words hiccupping out with the rhythm of his thrusts, "Wright was fucking. Gangly. I think. I like this more."</p><p>Jonah growled, pulling at Peter's hair, breaths coming in short and choppy as Peter began to lose rhythm and Jonah felt his own climax rolling at him with a new, forgotten kind of force.  "Shut it. I'll be sure to grow taller before your next visit."</p><p>"Sure, and people say," He bit hard into Jonah's shoulder, "You make jokes."</p><p>Whatever was meant to be a laugh spilled out of Jonah on a high, keening note, "Do I look like I'm joking to you? <em>Fuck</em>." He let out a ramble of vague, non-english babble, Peter's pattern now erratic and stuttering but holding out. "I can't - <em>fuck</em> - stand you."</p><p>"Admit it, you missed me." Damn Peter's ability for coherency even when nobody fucking asked.</p><p>Jonah arched, pressing his chest against Peter's which was finally beginning to feel warm as Peter shoved them both slightly further down the futon - either by accident or deliberately it mattered not - and changed the angle, now hitting Jonah's prostate more times than not. The familiar caging bracket of his embrace was so impossibly enticing. It'd been, at times, rather boring here without Peter. Rather lonely.</p><p>"Maybe," Jonah fought back a moan, "I missed you."</p><p>Peter jerked his head up from where he'd been pressing it into Jonah's chest and made excruciating, intrusively cutting eye contact. Jonah involuntarily felt all his unattached eyes snap open wide, shoving him over the edge with a partially silent shout, mouth clamped down and staring intently at Peter. Peter thrust in one last time and moaned with a rolling, gritty rumble, terribly, terribly <em>seen</em>, and crashed their mouths together.</p><p>Jonah felt himself deflate into the futon, waves of orgasmic shock rolling through him with every heave of a breath, thoroughly fucked and currently equally thoroughly kissed. His lips stung, most definitely bruised, as Peter kissed him slowly, eventually pulling out of him and sighing into his mouth a very warm, very human breath. Jonah slowly and methodically closed his other eyes and absently ran his fingers through Peter's hair in a rare moment of legarthic satiation.</p><p>Peter hummed calmly, a heavy, nearly overbearing weight - if Jonah needed to breathe, that is. Jonah let this go on until the more sensible parts of his brain began to fight off the effects of dopamine. He began to prod Peter who steadily ignored him for a few attempts until receiving a nasty pinch.</p><p>Peter sat up, blinking sluggishly and sending Jonah an irritated look, again just-off center. And suddenly he focused intently on Jonah's ear.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>Peter cracked a gentle smile, "Did you know you now have piercings?" He sighed and went to sit up fully.</p><p>Jonah blinked up at him. Peter sat there with a slight curve to his back (scratched up, damn) and his hair sticking up horridly, smiling down at Jonah with those damned crows-feet.</p><p>Jonah blanked and quickly branched out his mind to catch up on what the hell Peter'd said and he'd missed.</p><p>Ah.</p><p>"Huh, no. Still getting around to familiarizing myself." Jonah blinked hard to try and wake up, then went to sit up with a belated wince.</p><p>He knocked his knee against Peter's back, which prompted Peter to begin picking himself up off the couch, aware of the mess between them and the mottling marks Jonah had peppered all over his chest.</p><p>Jonah swung his feet over the edge of the couch and felt something hard on the floor, looked down to see a smooth black, button lying there.</p><p>He wondered the extent of noise they'd made and all the lengths he'd have to go just to clean up for such an indulgence. Damn the young body with all its benefits. Apparently, a twenty five year old vessel did have drawbacks: Peter.</p><p>Jonah watched Peter pap around the room, still barefoot, gathering his clothes and kicking stray buttons into random corners. There was, apparently, also drawbacks to being one Jonah Magnus: a whole lot of complex principles he felt responsible to uphold, one of which was hating Peter Lukas. Growing old in James Wright wasn't a good excuse for sometimes chasing Peter away practically with a broom. Granted, Peter was indeed someone who needed the occasional threat of violence if he wouldn't shut up, Jonah found himself unintentionally bias.</p><p>In... both the positive and negatives ways. Peter was very good and rather calming while at the same time being insufferable and absolutely abhorrent. Well. Jonah supposed that putting up with his own snobbish and pushy ass wasn't the easiest. Peter, partially dressed and having used sweat to comb his hair down partially (disgusting.) came over and leaned down to kiss Jonah, still stuporing on the futon.</p><p>Jonah kissed back, hands climbing up to Peter's face, thumbs tracing the stubble. Jonah pulled back, barely so.</p><p>"You know I don't like being kissed."</p><p>"Sure." Peter mumbled back against his lips and leaned back in. This time with a bit of teeth and a lot of grin. Insufferable.</p><p>"How about dinner tonight?" Jonah hummed as he felt Peter's hand snaking into his hair.</p><p>"Sure."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hmu w typos or prompts if anyones so obliged loveyall</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>